


love, your tale will end just fine

by bacondoughnut



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Developing Relationship, Klaus Hargreeves Gets A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, as i think of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:41:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25666099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bacondoughnut/pseuds/bacondoughnut
Summary: Dave Katz ships out with the United States Army with about two dozen other new recruits to fight in the Vietnam War and he knows he's going to die.If you asked any of his fellow soldiers they would probably all say much the same thing.They all know they're going to die. They're heading into war. Gunfire and explosions, violent and bloody war. A majority of them know to varying accuracy that they are going to die.But Dave knows.
Relationships: Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 58
Kudos: 493





	1. Darling

Dave Katz ships out with the United States Army with about two dozen other new recruits to fight in the Vietnam War and he knows he's going to die.

If you asked any of his fellow soldiers they would probably all say much the same thing.

They all know they're going to die. They're heading into war. Gunfire and explosions, violent and bloody war. A majority of them know to varying accuracy that they are going to die.

But Dave _knows._

He knows he's going to die because the "Prophet" said so. And everything else that the Prophet told him about himself was true. He can't explain it, but it was.

Dave ships out anyway. He couldn't get out of it if he'd tried, it was too late.

Although he does have to wonder if this wouldn't be easier without the advance knowledge, he doesn't resent Klaus for telling him. For trying to save him. Not even a little bit, not once.

In fact, he often finds himself strangely grateful.

All these other poor bastards have to live with not knowing what's going to happen to them. They could live or die at any time. At least Dave knows when and where and what happens to him. He knows exactly how much time he has left.

It is, at times, a terribly freeing burden to live with.

Don't get him wrong, Dave doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to die at all. He really, really wants to live.

Not to be a cliche, but he's too young to die. There's no short list of things he hasn't done yet. Stuff he always wanted to do before he died. Stuff he thought he had all the time in the world to do before he died.

In different circumstances it might be very easy to give up, especially when you already know that you're going to die.

What's the point in living to die on some dumb mountain, when you could get it all over with right here and now? Well, the point is everything that leads up to that dumb mountain.

Klaus had said they knew each other.

More than that, Klaus had said they loved each other.

No way in hell is Dave letting himself die before that gets to happen.

It's not like that's his only reason for not giving up. In fact, he only thinks about it at all on his worse days. On a normal day he moves through life with the motivation of a normal person. On a slightly more difficult day he moves through life with the motivation of a normal soldier; they have families to get home to, lives to lead when this is all over, and a war to one. Any one of those should be plenty of reason to keep fighting.

Especially when he doesn't really know for a fact that Klaus was telling the truth.

On the really bad days, though. On the really bad days it's a nice thought, if nothing else.

A thought that he carries with him, through shaky flights on airplanes, through jungles, and battles, and rivers. And when he gets himself in a bit of a pickle, as is wont to happen when fighting wars, he reminds himself that he doesn't die here.

It would be rude to die here. There's someone waiting for him.

He's heard a few of the other men in his troop murmur similar notions under their breath. Only for them it's different. They've already met the people they've got waiting.

But the days get longer and longer, and Dave doesn't actually know when he's supposed to meet Klaus. He does know he's still fighting this stupid war.

Yes, stupid.

Maybe he didn't think so before he enlisted or maybe he secretly did and he just never could have admitted it. Maybe he didn't think anything at all before he enlisted, before that strange hippie took a seat across from him at the diner and pointed out the obvious, that he didn't have to think the same things as his uncle.

Maybe it's taken getting shot at and making friends and losing friends for him to realize it.

But he's seen too much hurt caused on either side to believe that any good could ever come of all this suffering. And he gets a little too preoccupied to be thinking much about the accuracy of the "Prophet's" stories.

Maybe he's going to die and maybe he's not.

The one thing he always knows, the one feeling deep down in his gut, is that he doesn't die here. He doesn't die yet.

-X-

The year is 1968 and the War is still going on. They're still fighting, and Dave believes less and less every day in what they're fighting for exactly, but it's not like he can stop. He never wanted to hurt anyone. He just wanted to make his family proud of him, do right by his country. This doesn't always feel like that.

He hasn't exactly forgotten about Klaus--he doesn't think a person could forget about their own death being prophesized by a stranger claiming so convincingly to know you. Even if you didn't believe them, that date would dangle at the back of your mind until it had passed, and you could know if you were right or dead.

But while he hasn't exactly forgotten, he does find himself thinking about it less.

It's still a solid anchor in those moments where he's convinced that he's about to die. But that's all it is. He doesn't stress about the date as it gets closer like he had been way back when he first enlisted.

He doesn't wonder when or if Klaus is actually going to turn up.

Funny enough, it's around the time he's stopped wondering about this Klaus person that he decides to make an appearance. Quite literally out of nowhere. Or at least, that's how it seems.

They all just wake up one night and there he is.

And there's too much going on at that moment for anyone to ask too many questions. It's just get the new guy a helmet and a gun and some damn pants. It's gunfire and chaos and no one stops to wonder where this guy came from, or what that briefcase he clings to is, or why he's already covered in blood if he just got here.

Dave's guilty of that, too. He doesn't think to ask the guy where he came from, what happened.

He's obviously not the new recruit that their platoon ends up believing he is. First off, no way in hell did he go through basic training. He's had some sort of combat training, that much is obvious, and he's able to keep up well enough. Certainly well enough that very few people, if any, actually seem to catch on much to the fact that he never went through basic training.

They brush anything he doesn't know away with comments about how training's gone to shit in their rush to get new people out here. Or jokes about how he must've left any sense he had back in the States.

Second, nobody knows who the hell he is. He drops in out of nowhere, no dog tags, no notice having come in about any newbies. It's pretty damn clear he's not a new recruit.

Which is probably why, sometime between him showing up and the next morning, Anderson, an impressive marksman and even more impressive idiot, pulls Dave and a few of the others aside to ask about the new guy. Well, not ask so much as vaguely insinuate that he's a Vietnamese spy, and eagerly await agreement.

"There's one issue with your theory," Dave points out.

"Yeah, what's that?"

"He's not Vietnamese," one of the other's cracks.

Anderson frowns. Sends a look back over his shoulder, where the stranger in question is quietly conversing with the head of their platoon. Then he looks back at them and says, "Could still be a spy, they pay him enough."

"He's not a spy," Dave says, surprising himself with the conviction of this belief. He hasn't had so much as one conversation with the guy. He's not even sure the guy is who he sort of, vaguely thinks he is.

"How d'you know?" Someone challenges.

"'Cause if he was a spy he'd be a helluva lot more subtle, how 'bout that?"

Showing up in the middle of the night, no gun no pants no dog tags no idea where he is, that's not particularly sneaky.

That's not the real, or at least not the only, reason Dave's skeptical of the theory. And he might not be quite the marksman Anderson is, but he's got at least as much respect from the others, because they're pretty quick to agree. That, or his just happens to be the more reasonable side of the argument.

Regardless, they disperse with no less curiosity about this greenhorn. Dave included.

The first actual conversation they have is when Dave introduces himself on the bus.

Most everyone else has been avoiding even acknowledging him. Not out of any malice. It's just that he's the new guy. No one ever wants to get caught near the new guy when he makes a rookie mistake out in the field. And no one wants to befriend the new guy when he may very well be dead by the next morning. He's got to prove himself first.

Only he looks lost and confused. And Dave would like to say that alone is enough to nudge him into starting a conversation, if only to provide some comfort for a stranger in a place as chaotic and terrifying as this always is for the new guy.

He's not totally sure if that alone would be enough, though, because there's something else needling at the back of his brain.

He can't be sure, it's been years since he met the guy, but he's almost sure he knows who this is. He's almost sure he's supposed to talk to this guy. Almost.

"Dave," he introduces himself, offering a friendly hand.

The man's expression is difficult to read, even this up close. It might be wishful thinking, but he thinks he reads at least a hint of relief at the offer of a hand. At the subtle indication that he's not totally alone on this crowded bus.

The man takes his hand and says, "Klaus."

And Dave's heart stops. And the worst part is, he can't even tell if it's at the confirmation of the name, or just at the way Klaus smiles when he shakes his hand.

-X-

"Looks like we're swimmin' today, ladies! Lemme see those skirts up! Get a move on," their platoon head booms from the end of the line.

Klaus whines dramatically even as he adjusts the pack on his shoulders, holding his gun up above his head just like everyone else. Dave follows a step or so behind him, trying and failing to hide a wince as he steps into the swampy water. He can already feel the mud clinging to his boots. Today's going to be fun.

"So Dave," Klaus says, after walking a whopping thirty seconds in silence.

He's not, Dave's noticed in the whole three days he's known him so far, so good at the silence thing.

But it's hotter than hell, there are mosquitos already buzzing around them, and then there's that damn mud at the bottom of the water, and Dave can't say he's not happy for a distraction.

There's a beat of silence, and Klaus doesn't pick up the thought. Maybe it was just a simple indication that he wanted to talk, without having anything in mind. Maybe he gets distracted from whatever he was about to say by the snake slithering past them in the water. He stalls politely to let it pass and Dave nearly walks right into him for it.

"Where you from?" Dave prompts after a moment.

"Hm? Oh, some vague stupid city," Klaus says dismissively. "You?"

"Dallas."

"Texas?"

He chuckles lightly. "You know another one?"

"Well I knew a girl called Dallas once. She was from California, funny enough," he says. He looks back over his shoulder at Dave and, back on topic, declares with some slight confusion, "You don't have an accent."

"Originally I was from Wisconsin," Dave explains. "I spent more time in Dallas though, I guess just not long enough to pick it up."

"That's for the better. Texas accents are horrible."

Klaus says this with an easy laugh and Dave finds himself laughing too. With a light nod he agrees, "Yeah. Yeah they are."

They're back on dry land soon enough. Actually, Dave doesn't remember a wade through those obnoxious swamps ever going quicker. It's a little easier to ignore the humidity and the uncomfortable when Klaus is talking, he thinks.

By the time they're out of the water he's learned a little more about this new person he's quickly beginning to think of as a friend.

He knows Klaus has a lot of siblings, although he doesn't seem to want to expand on them beyond acknowledging their existence. He knows he's quick to smile. He also knows that smile doesn't seem to reach his eyes very often.

"Rest up!" Someone calls. "We're walkin' some more tomorrow!"

They set up camp a little before sundown, clustering off into their groups.

It looks like rain. It just about always looks like rain these days. Dave gestures for Klaus to follow him and settles down under the cover of a tree. Takes the pack of cigarettes out from his helmet and holds one out, asking, "Smoke?"

"I'd be delighted," Klaus says, taking a seat next to him.

They've been smoking for a full minute in silence before Dave realizes it's quiet. Hm. So maybe Klaus isn't incapable of being silent.

Dave turns to look at him as he's blowing a puff of smoke up to the sky. He gets caught staring when Klaus looks back over, but he doesn't seem to mind that Dave's watching him. He just arches a single eyebrow, some sort of a silent prompt.

"Tell me about yourself," Dave asks.

Because most everything he's learned already has been in response to his own answers to Klaus's questions. Because he's known Klaus for a whole three days, and he already thinks he'd very much like to know everything about him.

"Well," Klaus says, pausing to take another drag of the cigarette. He continues thoughtfully, "I was born at a young age."

Dave snorts. It's undignified and a little embarrassing, but he snorts. Smacks Klaus's shoulder and says, "Funny."

He succeeds in getting Klaus talking about music. They both like the Hollies. It's a simple enough common ground for two complete strangers. Even if he does feel like he already knows this stranger, in a way.

He can't wait to know him.

The rain starts up a little after that, and they're able to keep from retreating, under the shelter of the tree. They stay smoking and talking, and it's while Klaus is grinning at one of his jokes that Dave starts putting together a little plan to make sure that smile starts reaching his eyes a little more often. It really is a beautiful smile.


	2. Dearest

For a time, Dave actually gets so wrapped up in Klaus that he forgets all about _Klaus_. Forgets about prophecies, false or otherwise, and about what's supposed to happen to him. He all but forgets what's meant to be and what isn't, because there's this hilarious, weird, beautiful man in front of him and it's dizzying and distracting and wonderful.

Obviously it's not all burritos and strippers--Klaus's wording, not Dave's. They are still fighting a war after all.

It's humid, and they're getting shot at a little too frequently, and it's raining a little too frequently. There's the endless walking, and always some superior or other who's mad or upset about something, and the mosquitos are relentless.

They make friends only for those friends to get shot and die or get sent back home a little less than whole. They run the risk of being that dead friend to somebody every day.

War is hell, that's not just a turn of phrase. It's the truth.

But Dave would gladly suffer a thousand hells if it just meant shaking Klaus's hand on that bus one more time. He means that.

It might be weird. He's only known Klaus for about a month or so. He knows people, himself included, tend to forge stronger bonds fighting on the frontlines together than they ever could casually meeting someone back home. He doesn't think this is that, it feels like something more than that. At this point, he's just pretty damn sure Klaus is the best friend he's ever had.

He's a little weird, maybe. Sometimes Dave'll catch him talking to himself and he doesn't really talk like the rest of them and he does his best to drink too much and he's troubled and sad more than he says and his smile doesn't always reach his eyes. And he knows things that he couldn't possibly be able to know.

Like when Sammy Davis died after wandering too far from camp in the middle of the night. Got bit by a snake, poor bastard. And Klaus knew he was dead before anybody, but more than that, he knew where Sammy kept the letter he meant for them to send his girl back home if anything ever happened to him.

How he knew any of that was beyond them. As far as anyone knew, him and Sammy were never friends.

But a little weird or not, he earned the place as Dave's best friend surprisingly quick.

He's the only one who always knows how to make Dave laugh, whether that's the unintentionally funny gibberish he sometimes talks, or the very deliberate humor that even the stick in the mud corporal can't help but crack a grin at. And he has their backs in a fight better than Dave could've predicted.

And, a little surprisingly, he knows just what to say to you when you're down.

Then there's the fact that he's a complete and utter shit. He argues with the second lieutenant and occasionally even gets away with it somehow. And he knows full well Anderson thinks he's a spy, and does his best to keep him thinking that just because he thinks it's funny. And he's right. It is very funny.

Point is, Dave's never known anyone quite like Klaus before. Doesn't know how he's even made it this far without having the little bastard around.

He only has that exact realization while he's sitting by himself, having taken shelter from the rain inside of their tent, stewing over a letter from his kid sister. He fully intends to stew alone, stewing is an individual activity generally, but Klaus finds him. Klaus maybe has a knack for finding people that think they're better off alone.

"You know," he drawls, dropping gracelessly onto the cot across from Dave. "You've been staring at that envelope for, like, an hour now."

Dave just hums.

Klaus reaches a leg across to poke Dave's thigh with the toe of his boot. Asks, "Is it from Alice?"

He's surprised Klaus remembers her name, he gets their own troop members mixed up sometimes.

"It's the first one she's sent me since I enlisted," he says.

Alice got pretty into the anti war movement around the time he enlisted. He supposes they both just took different approaches to their family's pushing. Either way, she more or less wrote him off when he couldn't denounce the war like she could. When he signed up to be a part of it instead.

It's why he's been staring at the envelope instead of opening it.

"We're not happy about that?"

"I dunno," he says, a smidge defensively. "You're family doesn't write to you either, how would you feel if you got a letter from your sister?"

He's not trying to be mean about it, he's genuinely asking for how Klaus would react. He does sort of regret asking, when Klaus winces ever so slightly, and he remembers he doesn't know why Klaus's family doesn't write to him.

Before he can apologize, Klaus says, as if someone writing to him would be an impressive feat, and maybe it would be for all Dave knows, "Oh, I'd _definitely_ wanna read that."

He flings the envelope with a flick of his wrist, where it flies about a foot or so before hitting Dave in the chest. He catches it but, still making no move to open it, explains, "What if it's something I don't wanna hear?"

"Yeah, you're probably right," Klaus says in mock defeat. "She probably only finally wrote, after all this time, to tell you she's never writing again."

"She's my sister, Klaus. I hate what she must think of me after all this god damn war bullshit."

It's not like they ever agreed about everything before, but he misses her. He hasn't found a way to make uncle Bryan proud of him, do right by his dad and his grandfather, and still be able to find common ground with Alice. It's like he's got to choose one or the other. It's like he lost her.

Klaus frowns momentarily. Then with a sigh he gets up, moving to sit down at the foot of Dave's cot instead. He doesn't even mind that Klaus puts his muddy boots right on the cot, either, because it's not like this jungle isn't filled with mud. And besides, it's Klaus.

"Y'know Davey," Klaus says, taking a pack of cigarettes out of his front pocket. He offers one to Dave, takes one for himself, then continues, "I've not had the most glamorous family life myself. But there is one thing I know."

"What's that?"

"When somebody loves you for longer than a favorite book or a color or whatever, that love isn't going anywhere."

He starts to argue before he realizes he doesn't have an argument. Instead he nods and says, "Thanks, Klaus. That's really--"

Thoughtful? Helpful? Deep? He doesn't know what it is, only that it's insight he appreciates. Not that he gets to say this. It looks like Klaus isn't done talking yet.

"And I mean _anywhere_ ," Klaus continues, jabbing the end of his cigarette pointedly in Dave's direction. "No matter how much you ask for like two seconds of peace from the endless nagging, or to watch Titanic alone so you can ugly cry without witnesses, or..."

"Watch Titanic?" Dave echoes with a curious frown.

He's heard about the boat, obviously. He just hasn't heard about them making any sort of a television series or a film about it.

"My point is," Klaus says dismissively. "What's my point? Oh yeah. Read the letter."

"Sure, Klaus. Thanks."

"Any time," he says, getting up and offering a dramatic bow before ducking back out of the tent.

As he vanishes through the doorflaps Dave can already hear him calling out to one of the other members of their troop, saying something about the rain and his cigarette. Dave rolls his eyes affectionately and turns to open the envelope.

-X-

He's had plenty of close calls since his enlistment. Plenty of close calls since Klaus showed up, one or two of which he's partially convinced they only made it out because Klaus was there. The guy's more observant than he lets on, and more intuitive than any of them by half.

It's not until this latest one, though, that Dave's conversation with the "Prophet" comes to the forefront of his mind again.

Because they're taking heavy fire, and this landmine goes off not twenty feet from him, and he's on the ground and it's noisy and chaotic. And only then is it close enough of a call that he falls into repeating his old mantra. Mentally reminding himself that he doesn't die here, he doesn't die yet.

They've been getting an awful lot closer to the date he's supposed to die though. And he hasn't even thought about it. Too distracted by war and family and love and Klaus. _Klaus._

Klaus, who is the one to help Dave back up off his feet before a loose branch from one of those towering trees can come down on him. Klaus who doesn't take his hand away from Dave's shoulders for almost a full minute as they run, like he's worried if he lets go they'll lose each other. Klaus who, after they're out of danger, frantically checks Dave over for any injuries.

Klaus, who smiles with relief when he realizes Dave isn't hurt, and then laughs about the whole thing like it's a funny memory.

How could Dave not get wrapped up in Klaus, with a laugh like that? When his smile is finally beginning to reach that brilliant hazel? How can Dave worry about dying when he's never felt so alive as when they're trekking through the jungle and his knuckles brush accidentally against Klaus's?

But that day he thinks about it.

He thinks about and thinks about it and thinks about it.

And that night, their troop sets up camp like they always do, immune to the near death experience. They all know they're going to die just like Dave does, and it's become a simple fact of life. No different from the rain or the mosquitos or gravity.

He sits across from Klaus at a makeshift campfire while their little group recounts stories. From today's raid, from their lives back home, anything really. It doesn't matter, Dave's barely listening. He's watching Klaus gesture with his fork while he comments on Cooper's story.

He's looking at Klaus and realizing how many infinities stretch out across that campfire between them. He looks at Klaus and he realizes there are entire universes sprawling across the vast expanse of the measly five and a half feet between them. He realizes what an impossible distance that is to cross. And he wonders why he even tries.

And then Klaus does the damnedest thing.

He smiles. Brilliant and beautiful and full of life.

He smiles and Dave remembers why he tries.


	3. Dead

Dave Katz is not a coward.

He's a soldier in the U.S. Army. He fights for his life and the lives of his troop every day. He survived boot camp, and being shot at on the daily, and very close calls with landmines and other generally terrible explosives, and even a job in customer service. He couldn't have got through any of that without a good deal of bravery and he knows it.

He's not a coward.

But Klaus Hargreeves? Well, Klaus Hargreeves scares the shit out of him.

He's never felt like this about anyone. Like he'd follow them anywhere, all they had to do was say the word. Like he can trust them with everything he has.

Like every time Klaus takes his hand it makes everything he's had to endure just to get here, to meet Klaus, to be close enough to take his hand, that much more worth it. Like Dave would follow him anywhere, all he has to do is say the word.

Like he can tell this person anything at all in the world. Like he _wants_ to tell this person everything at all in the world.

"Holy shit," Dave realizes. "I love him."

Maybe that's what really scares the shit out of him.

Maybe that's why he doesn't know how to say anything about it until they're in that club.

They're in that club and Klaus is both right next to him and a million worlds away at once. With his endearingly terrible dance moves, and his indelible, beautiful smile. And Dave likes to think he would've said something eventually anyway, but he's also big enough to admit that maybe he's borrowed some bravery of the bottled sort.

It doesn't matter either way. What does matter is that life is short, terrifically short for some, and Dave might be a complete and utter coward for all he knows. But if he's a coward then he's a brave one. And if he's a dead man, he's a dead man in love. Which, as far as he's concerned, is far better than being a living one who never got to meet Klaus Hargreeves.

And he leans forward, across the half a foot of infinites sprawling between them, and finally, finally closes that distance.

-X-

Klaus was right dammit. Dave does like Dune.

He's reading it beneath a tree while their troop waits for a pair of scouts to come back and let them know which path up the hill to take. He chose a tree a good ways off from the rest of the group to sit under, mostly to get some quiet enough to focus. The added bonus being that Klaus finds him, because of course he does, and sits down next to him just to lean against his shoulder.

Dave kisses the top of his head, and Klaus snakes an arm through his. Asks with a small nod towards the book, "How you like it?"

"I dunno, I can never seem to get more than a page or two in before someone distracts me."

Klaus gasps. "Who would do such a thing?"

"Oh, this lanky idiot I know," Dave teases. "Thinks he can get away with it just 'cause he's pretty."

"Is he pretty?"

"No."

"Well, I'd better take all this," Klaus says, gesturing to himself in mock offense. "Somewhere it'll be appreciated, then."

As he says it, Klaus gets up as if to leave.

Dave catches his wrist loosely before he can get away, and Klaus turns to look at him expectantly. He can't quite hide the smile as he gives Klaus's arm a playful tug, pulling him back and into his lap. He brushes a hand through Klaus's hair and tells him, "He's not pretty. He's totally gorgeous. Probably the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, actually."

Klaus scoffs. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

He doesn't need it to. He's right where he wants to be.

But apparently Dave sits too long admiring this aforementioned lanky idiot, because with an affectionate roll of his eyes, Klaus is leaning forward to kiss him.

It doesn't last nearly long enough. The shouting about a stolen carton of cigarettes in the distance is enough to remind them where they are. Still not enough to quite bring them apart. Klaus just climbs out of Dave's lap to sit beside him again, laying his head back on Dave's shoulder, where he can move away quick enough if they hear anyone coming.

But they don't, and they sit together that way for a long minute and Dave goes back to reading. It's quiet long enough he actually thinks Klaus must've fallen asleep.

Then he speaks up. "Hey, Dave?"

"Yeah?"

"Have I told you I love you?"

-X-

By now, Dave's pretty sure it's obvious. Pretty sure at least half their platoon must know about them.

Not that they aren't careful. He's aware all the time of how careful they are. Still, he's pretty sure someone must have noticed the way they gravitate towards each other at every opportunity. The way one of their hands will linger just a second too long when clapping the other on the shoulder. Someone must've noticed the way Dave worries whenever he and Klaus are separated on a raid or something.

He's pretty sure it has to be obvious, because Dave doesn't know how to hide loving Klaus any more than he knows how to stop being Dave Katz.

-X-

It's too early in the morning and everyone else is out of the tent, working on breakfast. They should be, too, seeing as they've only got so long to eat it before they're walking again and who knows when the next mealtime will be. But here they are lollygagging. Just for an extra thirty seconds of time together.

Thirty seconds feels like an eternity with him. Thirty seconds feels far too short with him.

"We should go somewhere," Klaus announces, as if out of nowhere.

"We are," Dave says as he finishes doing up the laces on his left boot. "Outside."

Klaus smacks him in the shoulder and, as Dave chuckles, says, "Not today. Later. When the war's over. We should go somewhere."

When the war's over.

Right.

Dave ignores the flash of a warning at the back of his head, that for some the war will be over sooner than others. The "Prophet" hasn't been wrong so far. It's not a comfort anymore. He pushes it back. Ignores it.

"Anywhere you want," he says, with a smile that feels realer when he stands up and takes Klaus's hands in his. "I'm there."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. There's nowhere worth going if you're not there anyway."

He means that. He means that so deeply he can't believe he said it so easily.

The crazier part is, Klaus looks like he feels exactly the same way. He squeezes Dave's hands in his with a nod and says with a laugh that lights up Dave's whole world, "Anywhere but Dallas. It sounds terrible."

"It is," Dave agrees.

-X-

The closer he gets to the day he's supposed to die, the less Dave actually wants to die.

Not that he ever did to begin with. But before, well before it was just a fact of life. Everybody dies, and especially every soldier dies, and it's supposed to be an honor to die for his country. And at least he knows how he dies, which in many ways is better than the mystery. The mystery is terrifying. Knowing is something else.

But that was before Klaus.

They're supposed to travel. He wants to show Klaus Wisconsin, introduce him to Alice and her husband.

When he thinks about it, there's so much he still has to tell Klaus. So much they still have to do together.

He doesn't mind dying so much, he just wishes they had more time. He wants a little more time.

But the "Prophet" was right about everything else. Dave loves plain hamburgers with two slices of pickle, he loves Dune. And more than that, more than anything, he loves Klaus. He loves Klaus so, so much.

And Klaus loves him back.

-X-

On the morning of the day before Dave is supposed to die, he gives Klaus his dog tags.

"I think you should have them," he says, as casually as he can.

He doesn't want to freak him out. Just because Dave knows he's about to die doesn't mean Klaus has to. But there's not another way to make sure Klaus gets them, and they're the only thing Dave has of himself that he can still give. Everything else, heart and soul, already belong to Klaus anyway.

"Why?" Klaus asks, frowning down at the piece of metal Dave places in his hand. Looking back up at Dave.

"Because I love you," Dave says, curling Klaus's fingers closed over the tags. He can't quite bring himself to pull his hand away yet. "And this way if something happens, or if we get separated, you can have a part of me with you."

"Nothing's going to happen," Klaus says, and he sounds so damn sure of it that Dave almost cuts and runs right there.

They could take off together. He doesn't know where Klaus actually came here from, but he's known for awhile the only reason Klaus stays. If he asked, Klaus would follow him.

He can't ask.

Dave knows he dies, and that's something he has to carry. He's thought about it a lot. But if he tries to run away from that, all he's really going to do is put Klaus in danger with him. They might be on the front lines of a war zone right now, but that's a safer place to be when you've got your platoon looking out for you. They become traitors, and they're just in more danger. Klaus is in more danger. Dave can't let that happen.

"Okay, so nothing's going to happen," Dave says, nodding earnestly. "Take 'em anyway. It's a tradition, my dad gave his tags to my mom. Grandad gave his to grandma. I want you to have mine."

Klaus knows him a little too well, and for a moment Dave doesn't think it's going to work.

But maybe he wants to believe everything's okay more than he wants to see the truth. He closes his grip tighter around the tags, a silent acceptance, and Dave just hides the wince when he realizes he's placed them in Klaus's _goodbye_ hand.

"Nothing's gonna happen to you," Klaus repeats, like giving an order. He jabs an index finger into Dave's chest and says, "You're gonna live to be a hundred."

"Hundred and one," Dave says.

It's the first time he can remember lying to Klaus.

"Hundred and one," Klaus echoes, pulling Dave into a firm hug. Dave clings to him as tightly as he can without freaking him out anymore. He doesn't ever, ever want to let go. Klaus kisses his shoulder and says, "You wanna get rid of me, it's not gonna be as easy as dying, got it?"

"I love you," is all Dave can think to tell him.

"Love you, too."

-X-

His time has to run out eventually.

Dave's surprisingly calm the day he dies. He's had plenty of time to make his peace with it, he just worries what's going to happen to Klaus. After he's gone.

He still wishes they had more time.

He's sure they could have had an actual eternity together and he'd still want more time. If they'd shared one thousand kisses, he'd ask for one thousand and one. One million and one 'I love you's and he's want one million and two. If Dave had the time to make Klaus smile a trillion times, even that wouldn't be enough.

And he doesn't have the time.

Their platoon is setting up for an oncoming attack they got word of and there's probably not even time for this. Dammit, they'll have to make time.

"Hey, Klaus," he blurts.

And Klaus stops, and Dave just looks at him. Wonders if there's a faster way to explain how in love he is, how these few months with Klaus have been better than anything the universe could've thrown at him. If there are even words in any language that could begin to cover the way Klaus makes him feel.

If there's an apology that could even begin to explain knowing he's going to die this whole time and letting Klaus fall for him anyway.

As if either of them could've stopped it if they wanted to.

They stand there for a long second, the rest of their platoon whirling in action around them, before Dave finally comes up with, "Green."

"Are you talking weird nonsense now too? That's supposed to be my thing," Klaus says easily.

"I don't know if I ever told you," Dave says, by way of explanation. It never came up in the list the "Prophet" gave him, anyway.

"Told me what?"

"My favorite color," he says, nodding sincerely. Dave looks him right in the eyes, committing every detail to memory--right down to the tiniest fleck of brown or the slightest change in shades of green, in case he gets to keep anything wherever he's going from here, and says, "It's green."

And what he's really saying, he hopes Klaus can understand, is _I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you._

Klaus opens his mouth to reply, and before he can there's a thundering shout of, "Katz! Hargreeves! Get a fucking move on, now!"

Klaus smiles at him, then with a small shrug turns back to attention. Dave lingers a second, watching him go, before snapping himself out of it. He gets to work too.

Soon enough the bullets are flying.

Soon enough it's too loud to tell Klaus how much he loves him. He steals as many glances over at Klaus, firing bullets next to him in the dirt, as he can without sacrificing his own accuracy. If he's going to go out, the least he can do is to do it while making sure his troop is safe. Making sure Klaus is safe.

Dave doesn't hear the bullet that kills him coming.

The last thing Dave hears is Klaus's laughter after a close call. The last thing Dave hears is Klaus saying his name, full of joy. Full of love.

The last thing Dave thinks is of Klaus. Of how grateful he is for just the very brief amount of time he got to spend with him. Of how afraid he is for how Klaus is going to handle being alone again. Of how lucky he was just to exist at the same time as him, in the same place as him, for just a little while.

He just wishes they had more time.

**Author's Note:**

> title from "judging books by their covers," by keaton henson. 10/10 would recommend


End file.
